


Consequences

by TheGreyMage14



Category: D.Gray-man, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Death, I'd say I'm sorry but that's a total lie, I've had this idea forever, Ice, Poor Jack, Snow, honestly it's to be expected, the death is canon don't worry, the works, three guesses who, you all know Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreyMage14/pseuds/TheGreyMage14
Summary: Jack Frost sees first hand the consequences of a little anger.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Consequences

1891, London, England

No matter how much snow he piled on the city, it always turned a mushy gray. It was all due to the foot traffic, he knew that. But it still annoyed him. 

Bringing snow and ice was the only thing he could _do_ dammit. If no one could see him...or hear him, then he wanted to focus all his energy on the one thing he knew for sure would happen. 

Frost bloomed beneath his bare feet at the thought, and his ratty brown cape fluttered in the chilly wind. 

That particular night was no different in terms of weather. The sky was a gloomy gray, and the clouds were heavy with promised snowfall. Jack Frost had perched himself on the top of a roof overlooking the cobblestone street. There were a few people out, all bundled up against the cold. 

Without a moment’s notice, he dropped from the roof and onto the sidewalk, careful not to go through anyone. He landed right next to the street, and an awful bitterness began to fill his chest. 

Why couldn’t they see him?

Why couldn’t they hear him?

Why…

Why why _why_?

It wasn’t fair. It never had been. The other spirits he came across barely tolerated his presence as it was. The seasonal spirits didn’t like that winter erased all the work they had done, and the winter spirits had been too closely-knit for too long. They weren’t too keen on the idea of strangers, and he’d just appeared out of nowhere. He had no one. No one but a silent moon. 

Well, he did have the wind, and while he was always grateful for her - it always felt like a her - there was no speaking. No touching besides a gentle caress through his white hair, or a wild breeze that would pick him up and carry him through the air. There was no...communication. Not like what everyone else had. 

Jack Frost was lonely. 

And deep down, he was scared that he always would be. 

In a split second of anger and bitterness, he struck the cobblestone street with the end of his staff. Ice spread out from the area of contact, and soon enough the whole street was covered. 

A man on the opposite sidewalk suddenly slipped, and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed hold of a light post. 

A girl not too far in front of him slipped and dropped the mountain of packages she’d been holding. They fell in the snow and she gave an irritated shout. 

Jack chuckled. He couldn’t help it, it was funny. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Jack turned his back for a second, to watch a gaggle of well-dressed girls a few feet away, just inches from the ice, when he heard screaming. 

A carriage had been coming down the street when the horse stepped on the ice. And then the wheel slid on the ice. And then it was chaos. 

It all happened so fast. 

There had been a tall man with a top hat crossing the street, and suddenly there wasn't. 

Jack's heart dropped in his chest as he watched the carriage tilt onto its side and sideswipe the man right off the street. 

There was a scream from a child and then a crunch at the impact. 

Jack was frozen in terror at the scene. 

Oh god no.

Oh _**GOD NO**_!!

It took him a few seconds to move, and when he did he raced to the fallen man's side. There was blood pooling beneath him, and Jack's hand flew to his mouth in horror. 

No...no no no…

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He didn't mean it!!

"Mana?" 

And then suddenly, Jack couldn't breathe. He slowly turned to his right and saw a small boy in a dirty patchwork coat two sizes too big. He had mahogany red hair and silver colored eyes. Those eyes were locked onto the fallen man. 

Jack watched as he ran to the man's side and collapsed to his knees. He reached out and grasped the man's coat, and shook him. 

"Get up...please...Mana!"

The man raised his head a little and looked at the boy. "Allen…listen to me...never stop. Keep walking."

The little boy had tears running freely down his face. “Mana...you gotta get up Mana!”

“Never...stop...keep...walking…” and then his head fell back to the cobblestone, and he didn’t move again. 

Jack felt like throwing up. 

“No...get up Mana!" He cried. "Don't die and leave me! MANA!!" He sobbed into the man's overcoat.

The winter spirit was about to leave, but then he noticed the crowd around them, pointing in hushed whispers. 

It seemed that Allen noticed them too, because suddenly he looked up, his eyes wide with fright and sorrow. A man in the crowd reached out to him, but Allen bolted from the scene like a frightened deer. 

The man blinked in surprise. "W-wait...come back son!" He looked to two other men beside him. "Catch him!"

No.

No, don't catch him.

Jack no longer had any idea what was going on, but he knew, deep down, that things would get much worse if they caught the boy. 

Besides...this was his fault. 

Jack sprang into action and created another ice patch, right in the path of the men who were running. They all slipped as soon as they touched it, and fell in a great heap. Jack glanced at them for a moment before running after the boy himself. It would take them a few minutes to get situated. 

Jack found the boy - Allen, his name was Allen - in an alleyway hiding behind a large wooden crate. He was having trouble breathing, and his eyes were wide with fear and disbelief. Jack wanted nothing more than to grab onto him and hold him tight. He wanted to tell him he was going to be alright, that he’d get him somewhere safe. 

But he couldn’t touch him. 

He couldn’t hear him. 

He couldn’t even see him. 

“H-he can’t...he can’t be…” Allen mumbled to himself, tears still streaming down his face. One hand was fisted in his hair, and the other - his left arm - hung uselessly at his side. “He can’t...he can’t be gone!” he squeezed his eyes shut, fresh tears falling down his face, and then curled into a sobbing ball.

Jack was flooded with heartbreak and guilt. If only he’d been more careful...if only he’d reigned in his emotions more…

None of this would have happened. 

“...I’m sorry.” Jack said. He couldn’t do anything more, and so he took off into the skies. 

The next time Jack saw the boy was at the cemetery a few days later. 

Snow had coated the ground, due to the weather from before and also due to the winter spirit’s influence.

Jack had thought it only right - even if no one could see him - that he attended the man’s funeral. He was the cause, after all. He’d forever be guilty about what he did, but it just...felt right. He needed to be there. 

Jack Frost stood on the hill long after the few people who attended had walked off. There hadn’t been many people at all - Jack suspected the man wasn’t from the area - but there had been a priest, four pallbearers, and the two gravediggers. 

The boy was nowhere to be seen. 

Just as his guilt nearly became too much, and he thought to go and find the child, he spotted a familiar head of hair peeking out from a bush not far away. 

Allen was looking around, as if to make sure there wasn’t anyone else nearby. Once he deemed it safe enough, he slowly approached the plain tombstone. 

Jack watched him sit down on the ground and lean against it, tears welling in his eyes. 

“...What now?” Allen asked aloud. 

“...I’m sorry.” Jack whispered. “I...I’m so sorry. I didn’t...this wasn’t supposed to happen...I…” he felt like he was choking. His eyes brimmed with tears, but they didn’t fall. “I’m so sorry…” 

But Allen couldn’t hear the apology. No one could. 

And no one ever would. 

Jack would live with the guilt. He would bury it down, down, down, as deep as he could. But it would always be there. 

He couldn’t bring flowers to the grave, but he could do something else. 

The winter spirit touched the top of the tombstone, and his favorite frost fern pattern bloomed beneath his touch. It spread around the whole chunk of limestone, and circled the man’s name in an elegant way. 

Jack closed his eyes, and looked at the boy once more. “I’m so sorry Allen.” he said. Then he wordlessly asked the wind to carry him away. Far, far away where he could hopefully focus on something else. Maybe he'd try and break into North's workshop again...yeah that could...that could be just the distraction he was looking for. 

As he flew off into the sky, he completely missed the large, imposing figure with a top hat creeping up to Allen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading guys! I've had this idea since I got into the ROTG fandom, but I finally decided to write it. I know it's a little short, but I didn't want to give too much detail to Allen because it's technically from Jack's perspective, and there's only so much he can find out without talking to someone.   
> I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment below to let me know :)


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